The Final Heist
by Aloe
Summary: On a dark night, not so very long ago, the wind blew in strong and snowy from the north. Fujiko Mine stood in the doorway of her decrepit mansion, shivered, squinted into the falling snow, and waited.
1. Default Chapter

One dark night, not so very long ago, the wind blew in strong and snowy from the north. Fujiko Mine stood in the doorway of her decrepit mansion, shivered, squinted into the falling snow, and waited.

"Welcome back, boys."

"Friggin' hell Fujiko, don't you get lonely, rattling around in this old place by yourself." Jigen muttered, shaking snow over the hallway and eying the dusty gilt frames lining the walls.

"Really, boys, who says I was here by myself?" Fujiko tittered. "Oh, don't look so alarmed, there's no one here. Well, not tonight anyway. For Pete's sake, stop looking at me like that, Goemon, and come in. It's freezing, and I don't have Interpol stashed in the back room. They wouldn't fit." She stepped back from the door and waited.

"Come this way, I started a fire in the library, it's the only warm room in the house." She shrugged. It's hardly worthwhile to heat the whole place just for me, so most nights I just sleep on the couch."

She rubbed dust off the table with her shirt sleeve and grimaced ruefully. "At some point I've got to pay someone to come in and clean the place up."

"It is a dangerous thing, woman, to reminisce with former rivals." murmured Goemon, tossing a few more logs unto the fire.

"Nice to see I haven't lost my taste for danger, then. Here--" she added, tugging at a corked bottle, "I brought up some of the good stuff."

"Here, let me." Jigen deftly uncorked the bottle and sniffed appreciatively "Wow, Fujiko, this isn't too bad."

He poured a few inches into a glass, swirled and sipped. "Where'd you get this? Maybe we could make a side trip, pick up a few dozen bottles."

"Came with the house. Help yourself, Jigen, it's lost on me."

Jigen tossed the wine back and held out his glass for a refill. "Lupin would have appreciated it." he muttered sullenly.

Fujiko poured, and bit her tongue for a moment. "Yes, I suppose he would have."

Jigen scowled at her, set down his glass, and picked up the bottle. "You wanted to reminisce." he said thickly, in between swallows, "Why don't we start with the last heist."

"The orange jade statue?" Fujiko said slowly.

"No." Jigen growled, "The one where you left us all to die like dogs in the underbrush."

"Um. You know, guys--" Fujiko swallowed nervously as Jigen leaned over her, wine bottle dangling from one hand, the other reaching for his gun, "that wasn't exactly how I had planned things would go."

Behind her Goemon snorted softly.

"Oh really? What? You thought we'd be shot by Interpol and you'd have the treasure to yourself? Sorry to disappoint you, Princess." Jigen slammed the bottle against the couch, and Fujiko winced as wine splashed over the rug.

"Enough." Goemon leaned over the couch, drawing Jigen toward him. "You must focus, still your anger. Relax, my friend." Jigen sighed and shut his eyes, slumping. Goemon casually wrapped an arm around him, and reached down to gently pry the bottle out of his hand. Silently he passed the bottle to Fujiko, gesturing for her to put it away.

"That's enough for now, Daisuke." he added, settling Jigen on the couch in front of the fire.

Fujiko sprawled across the other couch, heels digging into the leather. Across from her, Jigen stared morosely into the flames and wriggled closer to Goemon.

"So why'd you do it Fujiko? My leg, Goemon's hand--" he trailed off.

The fire crackled merrily in the silence, and at last Jigen looked up to see Fujiko, looking contrite, picking at the tufted pillow she was cuddling.

"I didn't mean it." she said. "I didn't mean it to go like it did. And if it makes you feel better, I got hurt too."

"What didja break a fingernail?" Jigen taunted. "Ouch! Jeez Goemon! Ah, friggin hell, Fujiko-- I was just-- " he scowled at her, rubbing his bruised arm.

"Perhaps there is more to this story than we thought, Jigen." Goemon remarked calmly.

"No shit. Isn't there always?" Jigen replied.

"I had long suspected," said Fujiko some time later, "that there was more to Zenigata chases Lupin chases me than met the eye. Sure, Pops was dedicated, but no one spends ten years of his life slurping down roman noodles and filling out Interpol forms unless they're convinced that what they're doing is somehow worthwhile.

But why was Pops so drawn to Lupin? He's not terribly dangerous, he only steals from the rich, and I've never known him to hurt an innocent bystander. If all Pops cared about was catching evil villains, there are plenty of those far more sinister than Lupin. There had to be another reason.

As for Lupin. I did care about him, honestly I did, and you two can jolly well stop sniggering behind your hands. But let me tell you, I've seen that man awake and asleep, drunk off his ass, drugged, and covered from head to feet in any number of noxious substances. After that, well, it's not real likely I'm going to go starry-eyed for him. And we did screw, any number of times. What, you boys weren't aware of that? Bastard. Typical: gets a lay from me and sympathy from you. Just so long as he never-- No, scratch that, I don't think I want to know.

But at some point, we simply moved on. I felt like I was screwing my older brother, and while I'll do kinky, that's somewhere where I'm frankly not going to go. And for Lupin, well, I'm not sure. I know that he got a lot less interested in the actual act, and a lot more interested in the process. He wanted to chase me, wanted me to shake my boobs in his face, but he didn't actually want to catch me. And then I noticed that he was ... watching out for Pops, more than usual, more than necessary. The merry chase, he called it. But I kept noticing how close he would come to--" Fujiko gestured helplessly and shook her head.

"Oh, I don't know. In retrospect I suppose it's easy enough to read my twisted innuendo into innocent conversations."

"Friggin hell, Fujiko, you nearly kill us, and that's the best you can come up with." Jigen snapped his lighter shut, and inhaled half his cigarette. "You're loosing your touch bitch."

There was a long silence, and Fujiko fidgeted with the tassels on the pillow. At last she spoke, her voice bright and brittle. "You remember don't you, Jigen-chan, Lupin had been living on coffee and cigarettes for several days, he was experimenting with smoke bombs, coloured, scented--"

"Yeah. Place smelled like a whore house." Jigen grimaced at the memory and took a comforting drag of his cigarette.

"You left in disgust, Goemon was--"

"I was meditating, clearing my mind--"

"Your nose." Jigen interjected.

"--for the upcoming heist. I heard the Interpol helicopters, and proceeded to notify you, Jigen. And you, Fujiko."

"I went inside," Fujiko continued, staring into the fire. "opening windows and looking for Lupin. Find the idiot passed out on the floor of the bedroom, sleeping the sleep of the partially drugged and completely exhausted."

"So, you're saying the smoke bombs didn't affect him at all." Jigen said blandly, flipping the remains of his cigarette into the fire.

Surprised, Fujiko giggled and nodded. "I tried to wake him up. I kept telling him Interpol had come; we needed to leave. Just as I'm about to give up, and haul his sorry ass out of the house, he sits up and starts trying to unbutton my shirt. I hit him with my purse, and wait for the wounded comeback line, but instead he starts kissing me. Hard. Passionately. He grabs my ass, and, eyes still closed, mutters, 'Where'd you put the handcuffs, Inspector?' And that, my friends, was the point at which I left him to his smoke induced dreams." She paused, combing the tassels on the pillow. The silence stretched.

"Ok, fine." she said defiantly "I intended to leave. It's just that, well, I was curious, wanted to see why he wasn't even trying to get into my pants any more. And when I saw him, touching himself and calling for Zenigata, I figured that, as a-- a-"

"Jilted lover?"

"-partner in crime, the least I could do was find out if Pops was interested." "Friggin hell, Fuji-- You could have talked to us first, you know."

"What was I supposed to say? He'd been chasing me for years. Like you'd really believe he wanted Zenegata instead, and was just settling for the nearest hot--" She broke off, looking disgusted.

"She does have a point."

Jigen snorted. "I never thought I'd see the day. Goemon and Fujiko agreeing on something. That calls for a drink." Jigen lit another cigarette and looked hopefully at the cabinet where Fujiko had hidden the bottle.

"No Daisuke, you've had enough for tonight."

"Says you." Jigen muttered, as Goemon's hand slid toward his sword hilt.

"Goemon," Fujiko chirped, trying to distract them, distract herself, "While you have your sword out, why don't we make some sandwiches."

I guess it sounds stupid if you stop to think about it." Fujiko said, biting into her sandwich.

"Guess that's not a flaw if you don't think." Jigen retorted.

"Exactl-- Hey!" Fujiko scooped a pile of napkins off the table and flung them at Jigen. "Jerk!" He batted at them, emerging victorious, only to discover Goemon stealing the last of his chips.

"Ok, so I don't plan things out like you two do. Never have. 'Cause then I panic until finally I have to **do** just to stop thinking about it; halfway through the job I start remembering all the stuff I planned to do and I get really panicky cause, here I am on step ten and I've forgotten steps two and three and then I really fuck up and Lupin has to save my ass."

She tossed her hair, preening. "Besides, I did just fine before I met you guys. I didn't make a bundle, but I did ok."

"But did petty thieving pay better than the whorehouse?" Jigen leaned back and lit another cigarette. This was her half-assed logic for screwing them over? Last time he'd listen to Goemon blithering about peace and forgiveness.

"That's none of your damn business. It was a fucking heist. That's all it was." She ran for the door, hitting her shoulder against Jigen's chair.

"Friggin hell! Fujiko!" Jigen leaned back, grabbed her arm. "I was just joking; I never knew you actually-- Why didn't you ask? I mean, if you were that broke we would have--"

Fujiko stood still, yanking her mind back to the present. Trust Jigen to inadvertently mention one of the few heists she hated remembering. Automatically she reached out; took the cup of scalding tea from Goemon.

"Drink woman." Goemon held the saucer and watched as Fujiko slurped tea. "Son of a bi--. Goemon, you knew about this."

"I was--" Goemon swallowed, fighting unpleasant memories of his own."Aware of it, yes."

"When you get right down down to it, I suck at taking care of people." Fujiko remarked. She hurried to the other side of the kitchen, and began to wipe off the counter.

"So you went to find Zenigata?" Jigen rummaged through the cabinets, looking for cookies.

"Huh?" Fujiko was stacking dishes in the sink, and looking distracted.

"Lupin. Zenigata. Orange jade statue. You bailed." Jigen emerged, triumphantly clutching a package of Oreos, and set to work tearing at them with his teeth.

"Oh yeah, that." Fujiko rinsed the last dish, and set it in the drainer. "As you both know, Interpol field recruits tend to be pretty inept. And I'm not nearly as well-known as Lupin. It was pretty easy, actually."

Goemon calmly took the package of Oreos from Jigen, sliced them open, and handed them back, bowing slightly. She leaned forward and swiped the cookie out of Jigen's hand and took a quick bite.

"Friggin-- Get your own!" Jigen snatched it back, jammed it in his mouth, and reached for another. "Hey! Whatcha do with--" He broke off as Goemon dangled the package in front of him.

"I 'got my own.'" Goemon said smugly, popping the cookie into his mouth; trying to look innocent.

Fujiko snickered. "Interpol had taken over the local hotel. I put on a maid uniform and walked right in. Pops was on the roof, armed with binoculars." she snorted. As if Lupin would appear undisguised on the street wearing a neon sign."

"We've done it before." Goemon reached for the last cookie.

"True. I brought him a cup of coffee and some hot water for his noodles. He talked to me for ten minutes before he realized who I was. By that time I had taken his handcuffs and his gun."

"And his wallet, no doubt."

"Honestly, Jigen. What would I want with his wallet? Did take his cash, though. I asked him why he chased Lupin. He blustered for a while; gave me the usual platitudes about Bringing Evil Criminals to Justice. When he wound down I gave him more coffee and asked why he chased Lupin, instead of focusing on someone who was more destructive. He wouldn't answer, and started watching the city again." She shook her head ruefully, remembering.

'It figures.' He had muttered 'They send you to distract me while they do their dirty work. But it's not going to work. Not this time. I'm going to catch him, and I'm gonna cuff him and I'm gonna--"

She had come up behind him, slipping her arms around his neck, whispering into his ear, "What do you want to do to him then, Inspector?"

He had spun around, and slapped her away red-faced. "What I want has nothing to do with it! Um-- I mean, I'm going to bring him to justice."

Fujiko had chuckled, satisfied. "Oh, I'm sure you'll show him the full extent of the law." And she was gone, leaving Zenigata alone with his thoughts.

"Full extent of the law? I can't believe you actually said that to him." Jigen laughed. "Poor guy. He must have gone back to his room and jerked off."

Fujiko looked up at the ceiling and whistled innocently.

"You bugged his room?! Fujiko that's evil, even for you."

"Hey, lighten up." Fujiko tried unsuccessfully to look perturbed. "I had to have something to show Lupin. It isn't like I stood there and watched. Much."

"Do you have the tape?"

"Now who's evil, Jigen?"

"I must admit a certain amount of curiosity as well." Goemon chimed in.

"Perverts. I'll see if I can find it: I think I have a copy upstairs somewhere." Fujiko yawned. "You guys had already left by the time I got back to the hideout. I'm exhausted, can't you fill in the rest of it yourself?"

"No. I want to hear you tell it." Jigen held up a hand to ward off Fujiko's protest. "But it can wait until tomorrow. I'm pretty tired myself."

"Well, in that case, let's call it a night. Come on, I cleaned out one of the upstairs bedrooms for you guys. There's food in the fridge, help yourselves, I'm planning to sleep late tomorrow." Fujiko shut off the kitchen lights, and led the way upstairs. "Here's your room. There are extra blankets on both beds, and in the closet, it gets pretty cold here at night. The bath is through this door, and my room is right here. Night boys, sleep well." She blew them a kiss and shut her door.

Jigen picked up his bag and turned to Goemon. "Do you think she knows?"

"No, not yet. But she suspects. It would be foolish to underestimate her."

"That's the understatement of the century." Jigen set his shoes on the floor and dug in his bag. "I'm gonna take a shower-- I'd rather freeze my ass off tonight instead of tomorrow morning."

"I believe I will meditate before bed."

"I'll be sure and tuck you in when you start snoring."


	2. Chapter 2

Fujiko shivered, pulled her lace shawl tighter, and tottered forward a few steps. She was cold. And tired. And her feet hurt.

"Customers." she said, mimicking the Matron's shrill voice, "Customers like happy girls. Pretty girls. Party girls. So if you're not happy, you'd better get happy. If you're not pretty, you'd better put on more make-up and stand under a dim light, 'cause girls, there's work to be done. The city is full of men waiting for you to fuck them. And when you've finished, you'd better hope they've lined up for an encore, because if you don't fuck them, you don't get paid, and if you don't get paid, you don't eat."

Fujiko tossed her hair, and stifled a yawn. Such a slow night. But it was far too cold for the balding business men to drive the streets with their windows down, furtively eying the female merchandise, and too early for the young men to have left the loud warmth of the strip clubs.

Warmth. To sit on your ass and be warm. To wear comfortable shoes. To plunk down your money at one of those all-you-can-eat places and stuff your face until you hurled.

She paused, turned at the corner, and strutted slowly back up the street. Even with three pairs of socks, her Matron-issued boots were still too big, and they slipped painfully against her heels.

A car slowed down, splashing her, and she paused, smiling, preening. It passed, and Fujiko wearily pulled her skimpy shawl up, her skirt down, and rubbed ruefully at the wet spots on her tights, quietly cursing the Matron for lack of a better target. It didn't pay to get angry at a potential customer, even if they had just ruined a new pair of stockings.

"Bitch." she muttered, scrubbing at the spots. "Crooked, scheming, evil--" It was wrong, even by Fujiko's admittedly liberal standards. Pick up run-away girls. Give them food, a roof over their head, send them to school. Let them buy junk food and trinkets in the Matron's store; run up a debt. Then the girls could do slave labor at third world wages to work it off, or they could hook. Matron made sure the first couple of jobs were easy; the girls felt pretty, had fun. Then she sold them drugs. It worked well until the girls starved to death or overdosed.

There were plenty of new girls to fill the empty beds.

Turn at the corner, down the street. Remember to mince and swing her hips.

Besides, Matron had the finest collection of diamonds Fujiko had ever seen. That, alone, was reason enough to hate her. Fujiko intended to get her hot little hands on those diamonds. She just wasn't quite sure how, yet.

In the mean time-- in the mean time, all she had to do was survive. Well, that and make enough money to eat. It wasn't much; she could handle it. Yeah. Turn at the corner, up the street. He feet started to cramp, and for a moment she envied Denise, lying on her narrow bunk, coughing piteously. At least Denise was warm.

As she turned, Fujiko saw a man, hidden in the shadows, watching her as she turned and preened. Frightened, she sank into a defensive stance; then stopped. Helpless. She had to look helpless. Just a desperate hooker. Could you even rape a hooker? And would anyone care if you did? She straightened up and tossed her hair back, striding towards him, trying to look confident, or at least coy.

"Hello Handsome, you look lonely. Let's go have some fun." She reached out, trailing her fingers along his arm, drawing him into the flickering orange street light. "Inspector Zenigata? What are you doing here?" Fujiko gasped, and mentally smacked herself.

She'd just blown her cover; blown it to an Interpol agent. Oh Jeez, she deserved to get busted for this.

Of course, if he took her in, they'd have to feed her and give her some decent shoes. But then Rochelle and Denise wouldn't get fed, and Denise was sick as it was, and oh crap, Pops was reaching for his handcuffs, and if she was going to do something she'd better think of it right now.

"Inspector, please." Her voice came out in a breathless rush. "Before you cuff me, please listen.

"Fujiko?" He jumped, and fumbled with the cuffs. "Where's Lupin? This is some kind of sick trick isn't it?"

"No I swear, Inspector. Lupin has nothing to do with this. He's not here. In fact," she added, reaching up to grab his tie and pull him closer, " if you let me go, I'll tell you where he is."

Zenigata shoved her away, torn between distaste and curiosity. "What's the matter, Fujiko? Trying to earn some honest money between jobs?"

Fujiko took a deep breath and went for broke, praying she wouldn't have to run for it in her ill-fitting boots. "Why do ask Inspector? Are you lonely tonight?"

Zenigata looked at her for a long moment, cuffs dangling from one hand. "I'm going to regret this in the morning." He muttered, and Fujiko knew she had won. "But what the hell, I think I am."

His room was almost as small as hers. A single bed, a chair and a tiny table. 'Jeez,' thought Fujiko giddily. 'If this is how Interpol treats their agents, no wonder the turnover rate is so high'. She sat on the floor and started to unlace her boots.

Zenigata sat on the chair and watched her. "So, how much does it cost to buy The Great Fujiko Mime these days?"

She snorted. "Wouldn't know. I'm not Fujiko at the moment. Besides, Pops, no offense, but I'm not sure you can afford me."

He leaned back in the chair considering. "If you give me some info on Lupin, I could bill you as a business expense." He reached into his back pocket, pulled out a battered wallet, and tossed a handful of bills on the rickety table. "Here. Is this enough?"

Fujiko considered, then nodded. It wasn't as much as she had been hoping for, but it would be enough to buy food for the girls and satisfy the Matron. "If you feed me, than I'm yours for the night." She gathered the bills into a neat stack, and slowly bending over, slid them into the hidden pocket on her boot. She zipped it shut, and ran her hands slowly up her legs, hiking up her skirt.

Zenigata coughed, blushing, and tore his eyes away. "I'll um-- just go and heat up some water for the noodles."

"You do that." Fujiko leaned back against the bed and trailed the shawl fringe slowly over her shoulders. "I'll just sit here and wait for you."

"I'm sorry Pops, really, that's all I know." Fujiko said, her mouth full. "Lupin wasn't exactly thrilled with me after I took his share of the loot." She held out her cardboard bowl again, and looked at him hopefully. "Lupin and Jigan went to Mexico, he's got a couple of hideouts there, and Goemon said he was going west, to watch the sunset and meditate on futility." She snorted ruefully. "Boy, could I tell him a thing or two." She snatched the full bowl back from Zenigata and nodded her thanks in between bites. "You know, these aren't too bad."

"They grow on you." Zenigata said glumly, looking at the empty pot. "But why are you ..."

"Hooking?"

"Working. Surely you can't have spent all the cash from the last heist." He refilled the kettle at the tiny sink and and set it back on the hot plate. "Do you want some more to eat?"

"Please." Fujiko slurped hot tea, and sighed, leaning back in the chair. "Do you have any chocolate?"

"Maybe." Zenigata poked at the box of packets next to the burner. "I have some coca, if you'd--"

"Yes." Fujiko gulped the last of her tea and held out the chipped Interpol mug, unconsciously tracing the logo. "You can put it in here." He stared at her, and she blushed, trying not to sound so eager. "I mean, just so you don't have to wash any more dishes."

He ripped open the packet, and added water, then, holding the cup out of her reach, he asked again, "Fujiko, why are you working?"

She reached for the cup, but he held it a bit higher, and waited. Fujiko paused, considering. "Is this off the record?"

Zenigata sighed, and handed her the cup. He'd never been good at the whole interrogation routine. "This whole evening is off the record, as far as I'm concerned. First thing tomorrow I'm filling out the thug-knocked-me-down-and-stole-my-wallet form."

"Pops! We're rubbing off on you. I'm so proud." Fujiko grinned and drained half the chocolate in one gulp. "Oh, that's hot. Well, then, it's like this. The Matron has these lovely diamonds ..."

They sat smushed together on the bed, blanket wrapped around them.

"Well, I'm yours for--" Fujiko squinted at the clock, "--three more hours. What do you want?"

"Actually, I'd kill for a slice of cherry pie right about now. Someone ate all of my noodles." Zenigata looked down at Fujiko and pretended to glare.

Fujiko giggled and snuggled closer. "Wouldn't you rather cuff me and pretend I'm Lupin?"

There was a long pause, and Zenigata looked oddly uncomfortable. "No. No, that's not really my idea of a good time." He stood and went to the window, pulling back the dingy curtain to stare at the row of quiet apartments outside.

The silence stretched, and finally Fujiko offered awkwardly, "I could go and get you a cherry pie. I mean, if that's what you want." She picked up her boot, convinced that she had somehow said something wrong. Perhaps she had misinterpreted what he meant by 'cherry pie'. But that was ridiculous. She yawned, feeling clumsy and suddenly stupid.

Zenigata took the boot out of her hand, and set it back on the floor. "No. Stay here, get some sleep. Tomorrow you can look for a real job."

"But I can't leave now." She yawned, and leaned against his arm, rubbing her eyes. "--Wouldn't survive."

Zenigata grabbed her chin, turning her towards him. "Look at me. Now Fujiko, open your eyes. What are you on?"

"Mm?" His hands were hurting her. He shook her shoulder, and asked again. "What are you taking?"

What was she taking? "Nothing." She said, confused. "You paid me, Pops. I didn't take anything else."

He waited and glared at her, arms folded, managing to look somehow intimidating even though he was wrapped in a ratty blue blanket.

Fujiko yawned again and tried to work it out. Taking? She couldn't leave because she was taking something? Hell, he knew about the diamonds already. But wait, he'd said something before. He couldn't think she was really-- But that had to be it. "I'm not! Come on, how long do you think a drugged thief lasts?

"So leave her, Fujiko." He said triumphant ally. "There are plenty of other diamonds." And he grinned at her, confidant he'd won.

"I'm not leaving Rochelle and Denise." she shot back without thinking. Wait, what was she saying? He didn't need to know about them. Interpol would be in there in a heartbeat, the diamonds sacrificed on the alter of bureaucracy; the girls would probably be deported. She opened her mouth to explain and found herself continuing.

"Denise is so young, and she won't stop coughing. She needs medicine, probably some antibiotics. Rochelle's hooked bad. And she gets hungry. And every time she hooks for food money, Matron sells her drugs instead. I've been feeding her and making her take care of Denise at night to keep her off the street. Matron keeps talking about how I'll have the bedroom all to myself, soon. Bitch. You have no idea how much I want to leave, but it's not right, damn it--"

Zenigata sat behind her and gently brushed her hair, pretending he didn't notice the tears streaking her thick make-up. "So she's selling drugs?" he said at last.

"Yes, but she's careful. She only sells them to the girls, and then only after they've worked there for a while. You'll never get an agent in there, if that's what you're thinking. And I don't know who her supplier is."

"I don't need an agent." Zenigata replied, looking far too happy for Fujiko's taste. "I have you."

Fujiko moaned, and slumped down on the bed, covering her face with her hands. "Pops. I can't. There's no way it'd work. She'd never believe me. And what if I had to actually take it. What if I got hooked? And the diamonds! Pops, think of the diamonds. I'm risking my chance at the diamonds."

"Perhaps I could convince you." Zenigata smiled down at her, and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a battered card, and, clearing his throat, solemnly recited. "You have the right to remain silent and refuse to answer any questions. Anything you say may be used against you in--"

Fujiko laughed hollowly. "All right, Inspector, you win. What kind of evidence do you need?"

"For the drug charges, not much, actually. But if you want her to pay for the rest of it, it's going to be a bit more complicated. What do you think you can get us?"

"I-- this doesn't seem fair." Fujiko muttered, yawning. "You paid, I'm taking your bed, and we haven't even--"

"I told you, my wallet was stolen by a street thug. A very beautiful street thug." Zenigata shrugged, and balled his coat up, stuffing it under his head. "I've slept on the floor plenty of times, and besides, it's almost morning."

"Oh baka, come here." she said, and kissed him.

Fujiko pulled the ragged curtain back and looked out at the quiet street. "Hey Pops, it's almost dawn. I need to get back." She sighed and sat on the chair, lacing her boots once again. "Inspector, I'm going to leave now."

Lupin!" Zenigata muttered, twisting into the blanket, "I'm going to get you. You're not gonna get away this time. Not this time ...." His voice faded into a soft snore.

Fujiko snickered and tucked the blanket tighter around him. 'This was the time to double cross him', she thought, carrying her cup over to the tiny cabinet. 'It didn't get any easier than this.'

"But I'm not going to." She said out loud, startling herself. "He's the lessor of two evils." But I am going to get those diamonds. Interpol doesn't deserve them, I've worked for them, they're mine. "Besides, madame Matron isn't going to need them. Not where she's going." With that happy thought, she closed the door behind her, and stepped out into the morning mist.


End file.
